


Pizza My Heart

by Happilysunlight (sunlight), yslstagram (lindseyloveslouis)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, Louis in Lingerie, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5491451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlight/pseuds/Happilysunlight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindseyloveslouis/pseuds/yslstagram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plans fell through, and Louis ends up alone for his birthday and Christmas. He gets a little tipsy and decides to order pizza put on a show for the delivery boy. </p><p>Harry’s just elated he gets to deliver a pizza to the boy he’s had a crush on for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pizza My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tvfeels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvfeels/gifts).



> A huge thanks to [J](http://www.paynner.tumblr.com), [Lexi](http://www.idareyoutotakealook.tumblr.com), and [Sarah](http://www.peterpanlouis.tumblr.com), who all read this before we posted. 
> 
> Thank you to [Lexy](100percentsassy.tumblr.com) for the title! Harry would be proud of the pun.

 

“Harry, I’ve got a delivery for you,” Nick calls into the kitchen. Harry glances through the window to where Nick is sitting, hunched over the counter and scrunches his eyebrows in confusion.

 

“Wait, but Frankie is working. Why me? That’s not my job.”

 

“Well, _Harold._ The special instructions said, and I quote, ‘send your fittest delivery boy.’ Can’t very well send Frankie, can I? It’s bloody Christmas eve, poor sap is ordering pizza on a holiday. And it’s a small pizza, Harry. To eat alone.” Nick walks around into the kitchen as he talks, giving Harry a _look._

 

“Nick, that’s just presumptuous. Not everyone celebrates Christmas, you know. It’s a perfectly normal day for many people,” he responds.

 

“Louis Tomlinson.”

 

“Um, what? I don’t-I don’t,” he stutters.

 

“The delivery is for Louis.”

 

Harry’s eyes widen. Nick’s been teasing him about his crush on Louis for years now. It started as an offhand comment on how Gemma’s new friend was fit. And then it got worse, Gemma always bringing him around, Louis and his family coming through the restaurant, Harry having to watch Louis interact with his baby siblings through the window from the kitchen. Only last week Nick caught him scrolling through Louis’ instagram, which confirmed he was home from Uni for the holidays.

 

“Nick-”

 

“Harry, I’m giving you the _golden_ opportunity here. Make his pizza, go deliver it to your boy, win his heart, etcetera!” Nick leaves the kitchen without giving Harry the chance to rebut, so he huffs and begins work on the pizza. Extra cheese and pepperoni. Alright. He can do this.

\---

 

He can’t do this. He’s standing outside the door to Louis’ family’s house. He’s been here before, but it was only to pick up Gemma from hanging out with Louis, nothing more. Nothing like this. He takes a few deep breaths into his diaphragm like he’s been taught to do in choir. Calming breaths, apparently. _Doesn’t seem to be helping now_ , he thinks, bitterly.

 

Harry brings his shaky hand up and pushes the doorbell, and listens as it echo through the house. No turning back now. He hears the sound of something falling over, a muttered “Shit,” followed by “Coming! One second!” and a slow beat of music echoing in the background. He swallows a dry gulp in anticipation.

 

The knob jingles and the door opens. It’s Louis. Louis in _lingerie._ Louis in _red, lacy,_ lingerie. With suspenders and stay up. _Red, lacy_ suspenders and stockings that reach his upper thighs, which are _incredibly_ muscular and seem almost too big for his slim frame.

 

 _What. The. Fuck._ Is he hallucinating? Is this all a dream and he’s going to wake up to Nick snapping his fingers, yelling at him for falling asleep at work? Harry’s mouth is dry as he looks up and down at Louis, and he can’t choose whether to say “Here’s the pizza you ordered, it’ll be £13” or “Holymotherfuckingshit you’re the fittest person in the world can I please fuck you right here against the door?” so he decides to stay quiet instead.

 

\--

Pardon the pun, but the pizza place _delivered_ , Louis thinks. They certainly sent their cutest delivery boy. He's got curls to his shoulders and green eyes and rosy lips and red nail varnish. And he looks familiar.

“Harry?” Louis asks, placing the face as belonging to his good friend's younger brother. _Damn,_ he grew up. And grew up well.

Harry is still speechless, and a rush of cool air reminds Louis what he's wearing. Or, well. What he isn’t wearing.

So, maybe he's a little drunk. A lot drunk. He had the brilliant idea of breaking into his mum's wine collection. After all, he'd been left alone for his birthday, which means Christmas too. Not that it's anyone's fault but his own, but the point stands. He's drunk and standing in the doorway and he's wearing red lacy lingerie. And he's pretty sure his cock is very visible.

“Ah, hi, um. I have a pizza-” Louis cuts off Harry's voice with a finger pressed to his lips. In his mind it's incredibly sexy, like when people shush each other in the movies before things get intense. He's pretty sure that's not the case, that he's just sloppily wiping his forefinger against Harry's face.

“Harry Styles. Well, well, well. Look who's grown up,” he says, tugging the boy inside his house. Harry can't stop staring at his crotch, and it's not an openly curious can't look away type of thing, it's a _clearly_ he's interested type of thing. He puts on the flirtiest voice he knows. “You want a show?”

Harry gulps audibly, and blinks his eyes a few times before nodding his head a few times. “Wait, shit, I mean. No, I'm working, I can't-”

Louis crowds into Harry's space and takes the pizza, setting it on the floor. “Harry, you’re interested?” He looks conflicted, like he wants to stay but is dedicated enough that he knows he'll be back to work soon. Louis won't let him go without a fight. “Can I kiss you?”

Harry's eyes somehow manage to widen further, and he gapes his mouth open in response. “Shit, oh fuck. Louis, no, I'm sorry,” he says, backing up from him.

“Wait, Haz, but don't you want-”

“Fuck, of course I want. Oh god. God, oh my god. Of course I want this. I want you. I have to go to work. And shit, you're drunk. I'm sorry, I can't.”

“When are you finished?” He asks. He doesn't want to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

“Uh, eleven?”

“Come back at eleven, please? Please even if it's only to watch a movie or, I don't know. I just. God. You're so _hot_ , Hazza.”

Harry smiles apologetically, and starts turning away from Louis, before turning on his heels to come back, close up into his space. Harry kisses his cheek and it's all affection and softness. And it's out of this world that this happened on some whim, almost-a-joke thing he typed into the special instructions section of his pizza order form.

“Eleven,” Harry says, and he can't tell if it's a promise, or a rejection, or what's going on. But all too soon he's alone in the doorway, pizza box sitting on the ground, dressed in an outfit that may or may not be revealing his cock to the entire neighborhood.

\--

Harry doesn't hesitate in pressing the doorbell when he returns to Louis' house after his shift. His dick has been half hard since he laid eyes on Louis earlier in the evening, and he’s antsy to see what will happen. Returning to work had been awkward, his face flushed, trying to avoid Nick's questions, had decided instead to busy himself with a deep clean of the oven.

  
It's been a few hours, so hopefully Louis isn't drunk anymore. Hopefully he actually wants Harry to have come back. Hopefully it wasn't an elaborate joke or a moment of vulnerability he regrets.

 

The door opens, and while he was expecting Louis to look attractive—he'd opened the door in lingerie earlier, for goodness sake—his jaw drops at the sight in front of him. Louis has changed clothes. He's wearing a hoodie with a big 'Adidas' spread across the front. It's a bit too big on him, and the sleeves reach past his hands, both of which he's using to rub his eyes groggily as he yawns. He's got a pair of baggy trackies on, which drag a bit on the floor behind his bare heels.

 

Harry meets Louis' eyes, now open further upon realizing who was at the door. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, and Harry wonders if maybe he shouldn't have come back after all, should have given Louis a chance to get some rest.

 

"Harry!" He says, cutting off his train of thought. "I didn't expect you to come back."

 

Instead of responding, Harry surges forward and grabs Louis by his cheeks and, after an appropriate pause to make sure this is what Louis wants, he presses their lips together. Because, in Niall’s reassuring words, #YOLO, right? Louis brings his hands to Harry's waist, and pulls him through the doorway. Louis reaches behind Harry and deepens their kiss as he pushes Harry back against the door to shut it. Harry pulls Louis into him with a hand against his lower back and takes a second to admire how his back curves into his arse.

 

Harry sneaks his hand under Louis' hoodie, and once he has his hand against skin, he stills.

 

"Louis," he moans, "you're still-" he doesn't finish his sentence, choosing instead to tug forcefully at the hoodie and pull it off. Harry lets out a strangled gasp as he drops the hoodie to the floor. "Louis, you. You didn't change, even though you thought I wasn't coming back?" He runs his hands over the lace, admiring the texture, how rough it feels compared to Louis' soft skin.

 

"Nah, it makes me feel nice," he responds. "I wear them all the time just for me."

 

Harry shutters, and flips them so Louis is against the door. He presses his lips against Louis', and opens his mouth up to let his tongue sneak out to gently brush across his bottom lip. They kiss until Harry feels breathless and has to pull away. He starts sucking lightly against the skin under his chin, and moves his mouth to his neck. When he gets to the junction between his neck and shoulders, Louis breathes out a little "Oh God," prompting Harry to suck a bit harder.

 

Louis tilts his head to give Harry unobstructed access to his neck Harry takes this opportunity to press down his teeth in a bite, and mentally high fives himself for reading the signs right when Lou responds with a moan.

 

"Louis, can I take off your trackies?" He asks, running his hands along the top hem. He dips his thumb under and brushes against the lace covered skin there. Louis nods in assent, and Harry pushes them down, over the rounded curve of his arse. Louis helps get them down his thighs, until he's stepping out of them, kicking the fabric away by jostling one ankle.

 

Harry presses another bruising kiss to Louis mouth, and then moves his lips to his ear. "I'm gonna suck you off now, ok?" He whispers.

 

"Yes, Harry, _yes._ "

 

Harry sinks to his knees and eyes Louis' cock up close. It's covered by the red lace flowers adorning his panties, but there's enough lightly opaque mesh to see the entire length. He's hard. Hard and Harry hasn't even touched him yet. They were barely pressed against each other before Harry got down to his knees. Harry has been dreaming of sucking off Louis for years; he has to cherish every moment of this, take in as many details as possible.

 

"Can't get these wet though, can I?" He asks, turning his attention to the panties Louis' straining against, mouthing along the tiny sliver of skin exposed between the suspenders and the knickers.

 

Louis gasps as Harry reaches around with both hands and fills them with Louis' arse cheeks. He spreads them apart for a moment and holds them in place before letting them fall back together with a slight jiggle.

 

Louis' arse fits so well in Harry's big hands, and he'll have to come back to that later, because now he needs to focus on getting Louis’ cock out of his panties. He takes a second to look at the complicated clasps, and discovers he has to undo the suspenders first before he can slide them down.

 

Harry is distracting Louis by mouthing along the edges of his lingerie, pressing small bites into his bare skin and soothing the pain with small kisses and suckles. He feels for the first clasp and though it takes him a few tries to get it undone, he doubts Louis even notices. When he gets the two in the back unclasped, he makes quick work of the front clasps, finally able to watch what he's doing.

 

Louis reaches his hands down to unclasp the suspenders from his lower back, but Harry pushes them out of the way. Louis seems to understand, and he places his hands back against the wall.

 

Harry grabs ahold of the top seam of the panties with his teeth and tugs, careful to not rip the delicate and no doubt expensive lace. He aids his mouth with two fingers from each hand on either side of his hips, tugging the lace down and over his cock at an achingly slow pace.

 

Louis wriggles his hips in anticipation, and Harry gives up and tugs the panties down to his ankles, unable to wait any longer. Louis steps out of them and toes them towards his trackies and his hoodie where they lay crumpled on the ground. Harry quickly closes the fasteners between the suspenders and his stockings, giving himself a view of Louis' cock framed nicely by two clasps, mirroring the v of his crotch. It's a lovely view, and he wants nothing more than to take a photograph, but he'll have to shelve that thought.

 

Harry splays his hands around Louis' hips and digs his thumbs in to see if it has the same effect it does on himself. Right on cue, Louis brings his hands up to Harry's face and tugs him towards his cock.

 

Harry lets out a breathy laugh, happy they’re somewhat similar, and moves to take Louis into his mouth. He's been told that the way he eats is reminiscent of someone giving a blowjob, and he knows it's right, because he goes in tongue first, mouth wide, just as he swallows the head of Louis' cock and presses his tongue against the rim.

 

Louis tugs on Harry's hair and it sends sparks down his spine. Sparks that go right into his cock. His poor neglected cock that's been hard all evening, straining against his pants. Harry brings his right hand down to his jeans and quickly unbuttons them, desperate to get a hand on himself. When he presses his palm against his cock, finally, he moans, mouth still around Louis. He can feel the way it makes Louis shudder, and he smiles, pulling off for a moment to catch his breath.

 

Louis is staring at him with his pupils blown wide, mouth open and panting, and his neck and face are flushed red. And really, Harry can't hold back a comment. "Lou, you match." Louis raises an eyebrow in confusion, so he goes on, "You're all flushed. And it matches the red," he says, rubbing his left hand along the suspenders still wrapped around his slim waist.

 

Louis is still for a moment, before he throws his head back and lets out a loud cackle. Harry joins in the laughter, giggles wracking his body. He looks back to Harry after a second, and his eyes are crinkly and he's smiling so wide, and Harry thinks he's never seen someone as beautiful as Louis.

 

"Laughing during sex, Curly, I like it," Louis says, ruffling Harry's hair.

 

"I'm so sorry, have I totally killed the mood?" he asks, but really, he’s not too worried.

 

Louis' attempts at placating Harry get cut off by Harry taking Louis' cock back into his mouth. He sinks his mouth as far down as he can without gagging. And, it's been a little while, ok? So he can't really get that much down, but he wishes he could. All he wants is to make Louis feel good. He takes his left hand and grasps what he can't fit into his mouth, and begins to tug his hand up and down, and move his mouth in sync. He returns his right hand to his own cock and matches the speed.

 

Louis is letting out breathy gasps and moans, and he's getting louder by the second. Harry speeds up his pace, and pushes himself to take more and more of Louis with each bob of his head.

 

He feels Louis hold on his hair tighten suddenly, and he presses his own cock into his fist harder and faster. He wants to come with Louis, and if this is any indication, he's getting close.

 

"Harry, come off, Harry, I'm close." Louis tugs Harry's hair, and he pulls off for a second.

 

"Louis, I can't believe. Wanted you for years," he moans. "You can come down my throat. Please," he begs before returning his mouth to Louis' cock.

 

Louis' head falls back against the wall and he starts thrusting minutely into Harry's mouth. Harry relaxes his jaw as much as he can to let Louis thrust. He's sucking off his longtime crush. This is really happening. His longtime crush who is wearing red lace lingerie, who is about to come down his throat.

 

"Harry, I'm coming," Louis moans out, and Harry can feel the warm release spill into his mouth.

 

Harry coaxes the last bit out and helps Louis ride the final waves of his orgasm and finds that he's just on the edge, so he pumps his wrist and pretends it's Louis' hand, and suddenly he's coming too, and he presses his face into Louis' hip, who is still standing against the wall and catching his breath.

 

"H, come up here," he says about a minute later, tugging Harry up to stand next to him. "Gotta get you off too, yeah?" He says with a sly grin.

 

"Oh, I, uh- I already," he makes a vague jacking off gesture with his hand, and Louis' eyes widen as he looks down to his crotch.

 

"Oh!"

 

"Yeah," he's feeling a bit uncomfortable actually, it's going to dry all sticky and he's going to have to go all the way home to change.

 

"Wait, hey. Let me get you something to change into, yeah? Wait here one second." Louis leaves the front entry way and goes upstairs, picking up his discarded clothes on the way.

 

Harry takes this as a cue to walk around and snoop a bit. He eyes the bookshelf, filled with worn books, he looks at the framed art on the walls, but he stops when he gets to what he's been looking for all along. Framed baby pictures rest on the mantle above the fireplace, and he's trying to figure out which ones are Louis when he's startled by the sound of Louis speaking.

 

"That one's me younger brother, Ernie," he says, gesturing to the frame Harry has his hands around. "That's me there, in the striped monstrosity."

 

Harry cracks a smile, and moves his attention to the photograph in question. Louis is smiling at the camera, and now that he's got a reference point in front of him, this is definitely more Louis than the one of Ernie, though he can certainly see the resemblance. "You were very cute, Louis," he says.

 

"Were? I'm offended, Curly!" Louis teases with no real malice.

 

"You've always been cute. Still are," Harry corrects.

 

Louis gives him a sideways look, eyes squinting in confusion. He shakes his head and holds out a pile of folded clothes to Harry. "Here, sorry, they might be a bit short on you, I tried to find my longest pair." Not only has he brought Harry a new pair of pants, he’s wrapped himself back up in the pair of joggers from earlier but his bare torso still boasts the red lace suspenders disappearing underneath. "Bathroom's the first door on the right upstairs. I'll wait down here." Harry smiles in thanks, grabs the pile, and bounds upstairs.

 

After he's cleaned himself up and is wearing the new pants and trackies, which are indeed too small, but are now amongst his most prized possessions, he steps outside the bathroom. He can hear the buzz from the television on downstairs and figures Louis won’t come looking for at least a few minutes, so he decides to take a peek inside the doors up here, just for fun. It's probably the last chance he'll get to see Louis' bedroom, and he wants to see if his fantasies were at all accurate.

 

The room directly across from the bathroom is very pink, and while he strongly enjoys men embracing their feminine side, even does so himself more often than not, he thinks the bunk beds are more indicative of it belonging to Louis' younger sisters.

 

The next door he pushes through reveals a queen bed pushed against the wall, an outdated calendar featuring scantily clad men, and wow, what? Harry pushes his way in and looks at the calendar, and finds it's a charity calendar featuring a rugby team who donated the proceeds to anti-homophobia charities. Harry smiles at that. Louis is exceeding all of his hopes. Not only is he handsome and funny, and enjoys panties, and wanted to help Harry get off, he's _charitable_.

 

His heart feels heavy, sad that he's not going to get the opportunity to have more time with Louis. He's accepted that this is a one time thing, but he can't help but imagine how wonderful it would be if they kept talking, if something developed. After all this time, him and Louis together...he shakes his head, takes one last look around the room, the mix of childish bits and bobs amongst more mature things, books, school things, and heads back downstairs.

 

Louis is asleep on the couch, and Harry can barely resist the temptation to take a picture, but he's already invaded his privacy by looking in his room uninvited, so he doesn't let himself. Instead he picks up Louis' phone from where it sits on the coffee table, and programs his number in, shooting himself a quick text so he can have the number, just in case. Louis probably wants his clothes returned, so it's not even that creepy of an idea. He sets the phone back down, takes a long last look at Louis, who looks soft and a bit cold. Harry settles a blanket from the end of the couch on top of him, lingering for a few moments before heading for the front door.

 

"Bye Lou," he whispers. "Thank you so much."

 

\--

Louis wakes to his phone ringing from across the room. Seems like he fell asleep on the couch last night. Oh god, last night. _Harry._ His phone stops ringing for a second before starting up again. Whoever it is really wants to talk. He drags himself across the living room to his cell phone, and when he flips it over it reveals the awaiting facetime call from his mum.

 

“Oh, god,” he says, as he brushes his fingers through his fringe a few times to make it look like he hasn’t just woken up.

 

He swipes to accept the call and is immediately barraged with the yells of his mother and siblings. They’re all yelling about his birthday and Christmas and the hotel they’re staying in and he can’t distinguish one thing from the next.

 

“Girls, shush! One at a time!” Jay calls over them all. The image is distorted as the phone is jumbled for a moment before Fizzy’s face shows up on the screen.

 

“Lou! Happy late birthday!” He can’t help but smile at his family, despite how tired he is. Or how upset he was that they left him alone for his birthday. It wasn’t on purpose, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own for lack of planning. Lottie pops onscreen next to Fizzy suddenly, and she starts talking over her sister. “Merry Christmas! How was your lad’s night yesterday? Did you all go dancing like you were planning or did you just go to pubs and get smashed?”

 

“Charlotte!” Jay chastises in the background. Lottie rolls her eyes and presses him on. After repeating his lengthy explanation several times for his family of how his friends all suddenly were whisked away by their families for holiday celebration, and after reassuring everyone that he’s not upset and it’s all okay and he’s fine alone and _no mum, it’s fine, you don’t need to come home early from your vacation_ , he hangs up.

 

He almost sets his phone back down on the ground when he sees that he has a new text from Harry Styles, whose number he’s about 87% sure wasn’t saved in his phone before now.

 

_Louis ! I forgot to say Happy birthday last night! Thank you so much for a great evening, I put my # in your phone so we can arrange me getting your clothes back to u. Xx_

 

His cheeks redden and he pulls his phone close to his chest to hide the screen. Memories of last night flood his mind and he can feel himself hardening in his joggers. The fact that Harry would send a text saying he had a great time when Louis was the one doing all of the receiving? Louis is enchanted.

 

He types out a quick response and goes to find a charger, the looming 2% in the corner worrying him.

 

_Haz! Me 2, yesterday was like. Unreal? I’ve never done that before, so it was amazing that it all turned out well aha. Thank you again. x_

 

He doesn’t expect to get a response, but Harry replies as he’s plugging in his phone, and then he responds, and he when looks up at the clock sometime later he realizes they’ve been texting for hours.

 

His phone buzzes a few times in his hands and he checks to see what Harry’s said now.

 

_You’re ALONE!? ON CHRISTMAS??? Hold on like 20 seconds._

_Okay. Louis. You’re invited to Christmas dinner at my mum’s place. Come at 4?_

 

Louis’ heart skips in his chest. Or at least, it feels like it does. He knows it’s unlikely that it actually _skipped_ , had made one or two too many dramatic statements about it that his mum had corrected him on over the years. His stomach growls and he realizes how much he wants to join them.

_Omg for real? I’d love to._

 

Fifty-five minutes later, he’s freshly showered, dressed in a holiday sweater and his “special occasion” jeans that Liam swears are really his “pulling jeans,” he’s gripping a bottle of nice wine stolen from downstairs, and is standing on Harry’s front porch. He grabs his phone to text Harry to say he’s there rather than ringing the doorbell when the front door opens and Gemma is pulling him into a hug.

 

“Louis! It’s been so long! Happy birthday! Merry Christmas, come inside, I’m so happy you’re here!” She pulls his coat off of him and throws it up on a hook, shuffling him inside.

 

Anne and Des are standing close by, and Anne comes up immediately to wrap him in a hug as well. Des pulls him into a quick hug rather than shaking his hand, which surprises him, but he’s not going to complain. It’s all very domestic and welcoming.

 

“Mum, what’s going-” He hears Harry before he sees him, and when they make eye contact Harry comes bounding over to him. “Louis! Happy Christmas! I didn’t realize you were here,” he says, and he looks unsure of whether to hug him or not.

 

He solves Harry’s indecisiveness for him by opening his arms wide and gesturing him in, and he looks relieved to have had the decision made for him. Louis doesn’t want to leave the hug once he’s in it; they’re like puzzle pieces in how well they fit together. However he’s surrounded by Harry’s family, and to them he’s always been Gemma’s friend and not Harry’s.

 

They separate and Harry’s face is noticeably flushed. Louis looks around at the others, and none of them look particularly surprised at their closeness. He wonders what Harry told them. ‘Oh, remember Louis, who was actually Gemma’s friend, well, he and I friends now because Louis ordered a pizza and then I sucked him off and he’s all alone on Christmas so can he come over too?’ Probably with less details.

 

“So, Louis, Harry told me your family is on vacation without you? How’d that happen?”

 

He launches himself into the same explanation he’d offered his siblings about his own plans being cancelled, and everyone sits down on the couches to continue talking. After a while, Des gets up to go check on dinner, taking Harry with him.

 

Anne and Gemma shoot each other a mischievous look, and Anne is standing wordlessly and walks over to a bookshelf.

 

“What-” he starts to ask, but she returns with several volumes of what looks to be photo albums. “Oh my god, is this what I think it is?”

 

Gemma laughs at him, so he narrows his eyes to send her a look before returning his gaze to the books in front of him.

 

“This is Harry Volume One,” Anne says, pushing one book toward him. “From birth until he started school.”

 

They page through the photo album, Anne and Gemma pointing to every other picture and telling a story or mentioning where he got his sweater, arguing over who painted his nails in this picture versus that one. They both claim to have been responsible for the bright blue, but neither remember ever owning orange varnish.

 

Harry comes into the living room after they've finished looking through volume two, but stills when he notices the photo albums on the coffee table. He mumbles out an invitation to the dinner table and quickly retreats back to the kitchen. Louis exchanges a confused look with Anne, but Gemma reassures them. “He's just embarrassed we're showing his baby pics to his crush. He'll live,” she says, standing up.

 

Anne lets out an “Ah,” in understanding, smiles at him and joins Gemma in walking to the dining room. Louis quickly gathers himself and goes along as well, hungry not only for the meal, but to be in Harry's presence again.

 

All through dinner Harry keeps meeting his eyes and looking away quickly. Harry cautiously participates in the dinner chatter but seems more quiet than what Louis had been expecting. And yet, their feet stay intertwined under the table the entire time, leaving Louis more confused than anything. It’s like Harry wants this, but maybe he doesn’t? Louis is going to ask as soon as they're alone.

 

After dinner, Gemma shoos them, reassuring that she'll help with cleanup. Louis sends a blessing to whatever might be watching over them; he’d been hoping to get a chance to return the blowjob from last night. Harry grabs Louis’ hand and leads him upstairs, into his bedroom.

 

The room is _so_ Harry. It's decorated tastefully, plenty of colors, books, clothes, and art placed around the room in a way that makes it seem cozy, not cluttered. And there are fairy lights strung up along the walls. Because _of course_ there are. There are no situations Louis can imagine where Harry has a room without fairy lights.

 

“Haz, is everything okay?” he asks as soon as they’re comfortably sat on Harry's bed, holding hands.

 

Harry traces his fingers around Louis’ palm without saying anything. They haven’t talked about last night since mentioning it this morning over texts. Does Harry regret it? Was it okay, but maybe Harry would prefer it never happening again? What-ifs cycle through his head as Harry starts tracing up his forearm and toward his elbow.

 

“Harry, please,” he asks.

 

Harry sighs, like he’s been defeated. He looks up to meet Louis’ eyes and he looks conflicted.

 

“What’s on your mind?” He presses. “Are we...I dunno, are we not good? Should I not have come?”

 

“What? No, Louis, you’re wonderful. I’m so glad you came tonight,” Harry says, and it’s immediately reassuring, but his worries aren’t fully quelled. “I just,” he trails off, sighing again. “I don’t know. It’s nothing. Do you want another glass of wine?” Harry pulls himself away from Louis and goes to stand up.

 

“What, no, Haz, I’m fine,” he says. Anne had topped off his glass several times during dinner, leaving him feel a little fuzzy. “Harry, are you sure? We don’t have to talk about it, I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he pauses. “That we’re okay.”

 

Then there are arms around him, and he’s being pressed back onto the bed. Harry tucks his face into Louis’ neck and Louis simply wraps his arms up and hugs him closer.

 

“Louis, of course we’re okay. I’m just getting worked up over nothing. You don’t need to worry,” Harry mumbles against his neck. He shifts and swings a leg over Louis, centering himself on top of him and leaning into the embrace.

 

“You’re sure?”

 

“Very sure,” Harry says, and then there are kisses being placed on his neck. Laying in this position with Harry’s legs straddled over Louis hips is becoming very warm. “Lou,” Harry moans, and it breaks him from his worries, sending him into the arousal of being so close.

 

Louis chases Harry’s lips, nudging his face up towards his own with his nose. Kissing again is like taking a breath for the first time since yesterday. They kiss until they're both breathless, and when they have to take a break to calm their beating hearts, they just hold each other closely, rubbing each other’s arms and backs softly.

 

They resume kissing after far too long with their lips apart, and it's so lovely to have Harry's on his. They're plump and wet and soft and so warm, moving against his own.

 

“Harry, can we switch?” He asks after a while of exchanging kisses and giving each other hickies.

 

Harry pulls back from where he’s been mouthing against his neck. “What?”

 

“Will you lay down? I wanna be on top,” he says, and his voice is so breathy it's almost embarrassing, but it's Harry so he's not.

 

Harry shuffles them so their positions are reversed and somehow when it's all said and done they're both shirtless.

 

Louis reaches down to suck on his chest, and Harry responds with a gasp. Louis brings up a hand to Harry's mouth and places it gently over as a reminder. “Harry, your family is home. Keep it quiet,” he whispers. Harry just moans around his hand again, so Louis pulls back from his neck. “Haz,” he says, taking his hand away.

 

“I'm sorry, I'll try, I'm trying, please Lou,” he gasps out.

 

That’s good enough for him, so he dives back down and start working on his jeans.

 

He carefully takes Harry apart with his mouth and hands, pausing ever so often to try to get him to quiet down. It's to no avail, and Harry continues his deep moans the entire time Louis has his mouth on him.

 

After, when they're laying in Harry's bed wrapped up in each other, Louis can feel his eyes drooping. He knows it'd be uncouth to sleep over at Harry's parents’ house. “Harry, I should probably get going,” he says, moving to get himself out of Harry's embrace.

 

“Nooo,” he mutters, pulling him closer. “Don't go, just stay and cuddle all night.”

 

“I wish I could,” he says as he brushes fingers against Harry's side. “But your mum,” he trails off.

 

Harry sighs in defeat and sits up. They dress slowly, sending longing glances toward each other that lead to kisses and gropes. When it's all said and done, Harry looks like he's about to fall asleep, so Louis tells him he'll see himself out.

 

“Hazza, thank you for the invitation today. It means a lot.” Harry pulls him into a hug at the doorway and they stand there, just rocking slowly. When they back apart from each other, Louis kisses Harry one last time and squeezes his bicep in goodbye. “See you soon, yeah?” Harry quirks his lips up in response.

 

“Soon. Bye, Lou,” he responds, eyes alight with the promise of spending more time together. Or maybe the orgasm Louis worked him to. Either way, Christmas turned out far better than he could have imagined.

 

\--

 

Harry swings himself face down into his bed and lets out a long groan. He'd done nothing but worship Louis from afar from so many years, now that they’re talking, exchanging _blow jobs,_ for goodness sake, he's realizing he knows next to nothing about Louis. He knows the basics, knows he played footie and acted in plays during the off season, that he did well in school and had lots of friends but wasn't a part of the group of popular jerks. But that wasn't really _knowing_ him. That was just the public knowledge about him. Except for the lingerie. Louis made it sound like no one really knew about that. Made it sound like Harry had been the one of the first to see that side of him, which made him feel a warmth in his stomach that wasn’t all due to arousal, and maybe more to feeling like a genuine connection.

 

He feels heat pool in his groin and his cock begin to fill. Okay, maybe it’s a lot about arousal. He had come less than an hour ago, and yet the thought of Louis in the skimpy lingerie was giving him a semi. He pushes the heel of his palm against his cock and wills it to go down. He's in the middle of a mini crisis, for goodness sake! Not the right time for an erection.

 

Harry lays there for a while, groaning out loud with both arousal and frustration. He feels his cell phone buzz on the bed next to him and he picks it up grudgingly.

 

He has two texts. The first from Gemma, from about an hour ago.

 

_I approve, H! I always saw the way you looked at him and I'm glad to see him looking at you the same way._

 

The second is new, from Louis.

 

_Thanks for the invite, H. Had a great time w ur fam.  Can I see u again before I leave for school?_

 

Harry quickly locks the screen and throws himself back against his bed, feeling too overwhelmed to reply. He thinks of Gemma's message, of Louis looking at him the same way he looks at Louis. He pinches the bridge of his nose, makes a face and pretends to debate calling her before he picks up his phone and hits call. It rings twice before she picks up.

 

"H? Is everything okay?"

 

"Yeah, I just-I saw your text."

 

"Wait, Harry. You realize I'm still here, yes?" She replies.

 

"I thought-I thought you left," he says, embarrassed.

 

"I'm downstairs. Good god, I thought something terrible had happened and you could only reach your phone. You were so wrapped up in Louis you didn't even notice I'm staying until the weekend?"

 

The phone line goes dead, and he's about to hit re-dial when his bedroom door is pushed open. He sits up and sees Gemma at the door.

 

"Harry, what's going on?" She's always been good at reading him, and right now is no different. "Did Louis do something-I'll kill him, what did he do?" She's turned into the guard-dog big sister and comes up to sit on the side of Harry's bed, ready to comfort him but still able to throw a punch if someone tried to hurt him.

 

Harry lets out a dry chuckle and shakes his head. "No, he didn't _do_ anything. He's just-" he can't find the words to verbalize how he feels about Louis, so he settles on making a noise that's half a groan and half a sad yell while gesturing widely to indicate the confusion he feels.

 

Gemma puts a hand on his shoulder and nods. "Do you want to talk about it? You two seemed fine at dinner?"

 

"It's just-there's nothing to _be_ fine. There is no _us two_. He was just alone for Christmas. And I invited him over."

 

"And?" She prompts.

 

"And. We-" he gulps and turns his head away from her. "We sucked each other off," he grumbles his words together and immediately braces himself for the ambush from his sister, wonders if that was too much to share, but it doesn't come. He turns his head back to her and opens one eye hesitantly, and she looks amused. "You're-you're not angry?"

 

"Angry?" She looks taken aback. "Harry, of course I'm not _angry_."

 

"You're not disappointed in me?" He asks timidly.

 

"Oh, Harry," she says, taking him into her arms. "Silly Harry. I'm not disappointed, of course not. I'm proud of you! You've got the guy you've been pining after for years!" She rubs his back and he smiles into her shoulder, feeling relieved that she approves of _whatever_ he and Louis are- if anything. "So, H, why are you upset? Louis seemed happy when he left, maybe a little loved up and out of it, but happy nonetheless," she says, giggling through her comments. She lets go of their hug but keeps her arm around his shoulders.

 

"I just, I feel like I've put him on this pedestal, and I'm realizing I know nothing about him. Even if we were to...to _date,_ or whatever," he pauses to take a deep breath. "I just have this image of who he is, and it's not all accurate, you know?" He shrugs. "Like, did you know he _smokes_? Cigarettes, not the, uh, other. Uh, kind. Of smoking," he trails off. "Weed," he clarifies. "I don't care, uh, if he smokes weed, that's fine, it's, uh, not. Not that bad. Fun, even-" He groans and slides back from Gemma's arm around his shoulder to lay down on his bed, hands over his face. "Oh god."

 

"Harry, do you seriously think I'm going to get you in trouble or something?" He nods from behind his hands. "Harry, I'm not mad. I've smoked weed too, yeah?"

 

"But mum-" he says, pulling his hands away from his face.

 

"Mum smokes weed from time to time too, chill out, Harry," she says, and his eyes widen with this new knowledge. "Back to the topic at hand," she cuts him off before he can say anything. "Louis. What's going on? Is this really about cigarettes?"

 

He shakes his head. "It's just. I think I made up this- this _persona_ for him, almost. Like in my, uh. My fantasies, I guess?" Gemma nods, so he continues. "It's just weird, but also sort of refreshing, I guess, to realize that he's, uh. He's not that person. He's himself. And he's different than I thought," he pauses and plays with the hem on his shirt for a bit, thinking. "But. Uh, I guess. It's not that bad? I still like who he is, I just don't know him." He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and feels almost instantly better.

 

"I know what you mean," Gemma says. He looks to her, eyebrow cocked in confusion. "I had a similar experience in uni. This boy from my creative writing class, right? He sat in front of me, and he was so gorgeous. I imagined who he was and why this big, hunk of a man was in creative writing. Maybe he was sensitive and wanted to express himself through poetry but needed help to learn how. And I just sort of made up this person, turned him into my ideal guy, and then we were partners for an assignment later on, and he was a right arsehole. Super sexist. I did all the work on the project." Harry nods, and she continues. "I'm not saying you’re having the same experience. It's not at all, because I know Louis, and he's a wonderful person. This guy was a disappointment, but I also hadn't been into him for more than a few weeks. You've been into Louis for years, and even if you don't know much about who he is, really, as a person, I'm not worried about what you'll discover when you get to know him." Gemma ruffles his hair and places a kiss onto his forehead.

 

"Gemma, thank you," he says. "Really."

 

She smiles. "Of course, little brother. You go get him." She gets off the bed and heads towards the door. "But H, I don't want to hear anything else about your sex life, okay?" He lets out a long groan and hides his face with his arm. "And I certainly don't want to hear the actual sex either, yeah? No matter how quiet you think you might be, these walls are thin." She gives a knock to the wall next to the door frame with a sense of finality, and swiftly leaves, shutting the bedroom door behind her.

 

After he feels his blush die down, he reaches for his phone and pulls up his conversation with Louis.

 

\--

 

They've been texting for a few days, about everything and nothing. From the most pointless things like favorite foods and harmless topics like family to some things Louis' never told anyone. His worries for after uni, about his deadbeat bio dad, the story of when he bought his first pair of women's underwear.

 

The series of texts he woke up to yesterday have Louis’ heart in stitches. They weren’t sentimental or lovey-dovey; it was pretty much the exact opposite. It’s just the ease of conversation and how well they work off of each other that leaves Louis feeling like this is something important that he needs to hold onto.

 

_Lou, you called me a donut so many times yesterday that I decided to get donuts for brekkie. But then I got to the bakery and they were out, so I got a raisin bagel. An equally as cute nickname for me! Xx Haha, am I funny yet?_

 

He’d actually laughed out loud at that one, and penned his response with a grin on his face, sitting up on his elbows in bed.

 

_I’m not sure if you’re funny or I just really need food. ;)_

 

Now though, it's late, and he's just finished brushing his teeth and is about to lay down when his phone buzzes. It's Harry, of course, even though he had said goodnight a few hours ago when Louis decided to stay up and watch Netflix.

 

_Hey, you still up? Can't sleep._

 

Louis smiles and types out a quick reply. He can't help but feel good knowing _he's_ the one Harry's texting in the middle of the night. It's like, even though they only started talking recently, they've been in each others' lives for a long time. They've had so many opportunities to become close, but they never did, until now. And he's quite happy that it's happening, and that it's  happening now because it seems like they're both grown up enough for this....this whatever it is.

 

His phone buzzes with another text from Harry.

 

_Meet me at the park down the street in 20 minutes?_

 

Louis isn't going to give up an opportunity to see Harry; the boy has a magnetic pull on him he couldn't resist even if he wanted to. He texts back in agreement and pulls on his coat. Why does Harry want to meet outside in the middle of December? How did he get so endeared with such a quirky weirdo so quickly? He smiles as he wraps a scarf around his neck, preparing himself for the cold.

 

\--

 

When Harry shows up at the park, Louis is stubbing out a cigarette, legs jittering up and down ever so slightly from the cold. Good thing he planned ahead, he thinks, as he holds out one of the travel mugs he'd filled with hot chocolate and topped with whipped cream back at home.

 

“Aw, Haz, for me?” Louis smiles a slightly crooked smile and grabs it from Harry, and his fingers brush his own ever so slightly where they peak out from his fingerless gloves.

 

Harry sits down next to him on the bench and gently lays a kiss on his cheek. He’s silent for a bit, hesitant to start talking. He’s worried if he does, he’s just going to confess everything to Louis, tell him how much he means to him and make a fool out of himself if he doesn’t feel the same way.

 

Louis sips his hot chocolate by gripping the mug with both hands in an effort to warm his fingers, and it’s just too cute for Harry not to comment on it. “You look so cute drinking like that, with both hands wrapped around the cup.”

 

“Excuse me, Harold, I am the essence of manliness, I will not be called _cute._ ” Harry lasts about two seconds before he cracks a smile and laughs out loud, and Louis joins in slightly after him. The two lean together and shift ever so slightly closer on the bench.

 

“Can you imagine? Me, _manly_?” Louis reaches over with his free hand and grabs Harry’s, and they meet each other's’ eyes with matching grins. “Haz, can I ask you something?”

 

“Of course, what’s up, Lou?” If this is what he thinks it is, it’s part of the reason he couldn’t sleep, part of why he wanted to talk with Louis in person again.

 

“I just-” he cuts himself off and looks down at their hands and the edges of his lips pull upward in a smile. “I really like you, and I don’t think I want this-” he says, gesturing to the two of them, “to stop when I go home.” His cheeks are red, like he’s embarrassed for having been so honest.

 

“I-” He starts

 

“I know it’s early, like. We don’t even know where it’s going, I get that, but. I just feel something?” He looks up to Harry and the fear is evident in his eyes. “I feel like this could be special?”

 

“Louis, yes, please! Oh, god yes!” He sets his nearly finished hot chocolate down next to him on the bench and reaches around Louis to pull him into a hug. “I like you so much, Louis.”

 

They hug for a few moments, revelling in the shared connection they both feel, and when they pull back Harry keeps talking. “Like, you’re so different from how I imagined you all these years, you know?” He knows he’s blushing, but so be it. “I just, I maybe made up some of who you were and it’s not bad that you’re different because you’re so much better than I could have imagined.”

 

They have matching red cheeks from the cold and the confessions, and it’s making Harry feel warm despite the chill in the air.

 

“Harry, that’s so cute. I was always like, aware of you? Gemma’s cute little brother who always got flustered when I was over. But I’m so glad this all happened. That I’m getting to know you.”

 

There’s nothing Harry can say in response so he tugs on the scarf wrapped loosely around Louis’ neck and puts their lips together.

 

All too soon, Louis pulls back. “Do you want to go to my place?” His teeth are chattering, it’s clear he’s freezing. “We could, ah. I can make us tea? Warm up?” Harry nods and pulls them both up from the bench, and they walk briskly back to Louis’ house, each grasping a travel mug in one hand and holding hands between them.

 

\--

 

"Harry-" Louis gasps, breathless. They’ve both only just taken off their jackets, and in Harry’s case, hat and gloves when Harry grabs him by the scarf around his neck and pushes him up against the door. Harry's unwinding the scarf to mouth down his neck and using his other hand to pull on the bottom of Louis’ hoodie with desperation. Louis is moaning, his voice caught high in his throat. "Harry, please."

 

Harry pulls back for a second, and he looks terrified. "Oh my god, Louis, I'm so sorry, I didn't even- I just assumed. Shit. You meant tea, like, actual tea. God. I am so sorry." He takes his hands off Louis' waist and puts them against his face.

 

"What? No, H, you dolt. We just had hot chocolate at the park. I was just going to say I want to make it upstairs this time. To my bedroom, yeah?" Harry's mouth drops open, and he surges forward to re-attach his lips to Louis'. Louis smiles into the kiss and nudges Harry towards the staircase. Harry walks backwards for a few steps, but his clumsiness catches up with him, and suddenly they're tipping over, and Louis finds himself straddling Harry on the floor.

 

They both start laughing, and Louis leans his head down to laugh into Harry's shoulder. Their laughter slows and quiets, and Louis turns his head to the side to see Harry staring daggers at him with the unmistakable look of lust in his eyes. Louis takes the cue and brings their lips together, slower this time. They kiss with their mouths slightly open, but without tongue, and it feels very intimate, Harry's arms wrapped around Louis' lower back, and Louis' bent arms resting against the floor on either side of Harry's head.

 

Harry tugs against Louis' back, and Louis realizes he's trying to pull him closer. Louis gives in and settles down gently, his crotch pressing against Harry's. And-god, Harry's already hard. So is he, but it's so gratifying to know Harry is as well. He uses the leverage of being on top to grind into Harry, who lets out a gravelly, low moan.

 

Louis pulls back from the kiss and sits himself up. Harry tries to follow him but he pushes against his shoulders, returning him to the ground. He gets his knees in secure spots on either side of Harry's hips and begins to rut against him, circling his hips to simulate riding him. They're both still wearing clothes so it's not as raw and close, but Harry seems desperate for more, so Louis quickens the pace that he's moving his hips, presses down a bit harder with every drag against Harry's cock.

 

"Louis-Lou. Upstairs?" He groans, his eyes rolling back and closing. "This is so hot-Lou, Lou! Oh god." Harry's voice is low and crackly, and it makes the heat in Louis' groin spike.

 

Louis jumps off of Harry before he accidentally gets them off before they get the chance to go upstairs. He reaches out his hand, and Harry takes it to help himself up. Louis presses a closed-mouth kiss to Harry when he stands, and tugs away quickly to gesture upstairs. Harry runs up the stairs first, and doesn't hesitate to push open Louis' bedroom door.

 

"How'd you know this one was my room?" He asks, once they're inside and have their hands back on each other.

 

"May have peaked around on Christmas Eve," he replies, but looks a little guilty.

 

"Oh my, perv," he says, but squeezes Harry's shoulder to reassure him that he's not upset. "C'mere." Harry comes closer, and Louis grips his shirt and helps him tug it up over his head. They've slowed the pace down but the intensity is palpable in the room; both boys are reeling with arousal and attraction.

 

Harry reaches down and helps Louis take his shirt off, and brushes the back of his knuckles against his stomach. "No suspenders tonight?" He asks coyly.

 

"Not much in the way of underwear at all today, love," he says, and he feels Harry shudder at the idea, before reaching his hands down and pushing past the waistband and gripping his bare arse.

 

Louis lets out a high-pitched moan at the feeling, and he worries for a split second that Harry will make fun of him for it, before he feels lips against his ear. "Lou, my god, that noise. That was," he pants, "That was so hot. Do you always sound like that?" He nods, and doesn't miss the way that Harry sighs deeply before pulling their crotches together with his hands that are still kneading Louis' arse. "Louis, make that sound again. But-but only if it's natural, yeah? Don't like, uh, play it up, but-"

 

Louis kisses him to shut him up, trying to communicate that he understands. It feels so good knowing that he can be his genuine self with Harry. There have been too many people who found Louis too feminine for their tastes, and had asked him to either lower his voice or shut up, or taken it so far as to request that he dress less 'gay.' He can already tell that this, him and Harry, it's different, and it feels so good.

 

Harry maneuvers them over to the bed with much more grace than downstairs. Louis jumps up and sits down on the edge of the bed, and reaches down to take off his socks. Harry follows suit and toes off his shoes, pulls his socks off, and he's reaching to pull down his pants when Louis stops him. "Let me?" He asks, and when he gets a quick nod in response, he slides down Harry's jeans, leaving his pants on. He takes the time to slowly drag his hand against the cock straining in Harry's pants, watching Harry's body react by tensing up his abdominal muscles, which is, well, impressive. The boy he remembered as Gemma's little brother definitely benefitted from the years of puberty he'd gone through.

 

Louis grabs Harry's hands and sets them on his lower back again, urging him to go a little lower and help him undress as well. Harry seems to get the idea, as he pulls the trackies down slowly while kissing down Louis' chest. He lands on his navel as he's getting the trackies off his ankles and feet, and starts licking along his stomach and pressing kisses down the trail of hair to his crotch.

 

Oh god, is he going to blow him again? Harry presses a kiss to the tip of his cock, but quickly pulls back.

 

"Turn around," he breaths, and Louis cocks his head in confusion. "On your knees. Please," he says. Well, he didn't think he was going to get fucked _this_ soon, and it's not a disappointment, per se, but it's a bit surprising after all the time that Harry seemed to enjoy lazily kissing and touching each other that he's rushing this now. He gets himself propped up on his palms and knees, and he feels Harry's hands on the back of his upper thighs.

 

He lets out a breathy "Oh!" At the feeling of Harry's mouth on his lower back, pressing kisses along his spine. His thumbs reach up and gently tug on his arse cheeks, and. Harry isn't about to fuck him. At least, not yet.

 

He feels Harry ghost along his crack as his hands come up from his thighs to push his arse cheeks apart further. Harry breathes out a cool stream of air before pushing his lips up against the piece of sensitive skin between his balls and his hole. He moves closer to the prize, pressing wet kisses up along his taint.

 

Louis goes weak at the feeling of Harry's mouth against his hole. He lets out another high pitched moan and feels Harry’s grip on his cheeks tighten, telling him without words that he enjoys the sound. Louis smiles, his forehead pressed into a pillow, and he takes a deep breath as he feels Harry begin to move. Harry presses the flat of his tongue against the pucker, and Louis shudders, legs wobbling. Harry repositions his hands and makes more space in between the supple arsecheeks so he can press the tip of his tongue into Louis.

 

It feels like nothing he's ever felt before. No ex-boyfriend has ever done this for him, and it's far too intimate for a one night stand. It's wet, it feels sloppy, and he's pretty sure there's gotta be saliva dripping down Harry's chin and neck, but it feels so intimate and _so_ overwhelming. There's the pressure on his cheeks and the feeling of Harry's tongue moving lightly in and out. He's letting out little whines with every prod of Harry’s tongue, and he keeps him on his toes by changing from pressing inside to pushing flat against the outside, varying the pressure and speed of everything.

 

Louis can't help himself and he starts moving back against Harry's face, who responds in turn by meeting the small thrusts in time. Louis can feel the heat in his groin starting to compound, and he realizes how close he is.

 

"Harry, Haz, want your cock," he says. Harry doesn't let up and Louis feels his tongue press further inside his arsehole. "Please, Harry, I'm going to come if you don't stop," he groans.

 

Harry finally pulls back, and Louis turns his head and is met with one of the most arousing but hilarious views he's seen in a long while. The bottom half of Harry's face is almost completely wet with spit, his eyes are blown wide with arousal, lips swollen and bruised. He looks ridiculous, but Louis finds it _so_ attractive. It's weird, because this normally wouldn't be so endearing to him, but on Harry, just because it's him, it makes him want to kiss him, to fuck him, to cuddle him up and never let him go. And that's, woah. That's new.

 

"Lou. Lube. Where is it?" Harry asks, looking desperately around the room. Louis points to the bedside table, where the top drawer is stocked with essentials. Harry stumbles over to the table and pulls the drawer open too far and it falls to the ground. He looks up, wide eyed and a shocked frown on his face, and Louis bursts out in laughter. Harry's frown quickly turns to a ridiculous grin, lips still plump and chin wet. They're both laughing, and Harry has his hands on his belly while Louis is laying on his stomach on the bed.

 

"Hazza, again with the laughter, I'm sensing a pattern," he says, teasing Harry.

 

Harry smiles, and as he reaches down to the fallen drawer to pick up a container of lube and a strip of condoms, he wipes off his face from the nose down with the other arm. He seems much more at ease this time, compared to the blowjob he gave him downstairs on Christmas Eve. Harry climbs up onto the bed and rolls Louis to his back and captures his lips in a rough kiss.

 

Louis smiles into their kiss and pulls Harry flush against him, before realizing he's still wearing pants. "Harry, pants," he breaths out. "Off, now. Get in me, please."

 

Harry pulls back and yanks his pants down, and throws them to the ground next to the bed. He grabs Louis’ right calf and brings it up to press kisses along his foot, pausing at the crook in his ankle. "Louis, Lou. I need you,” his voice is low, filled with arousal, and the way it rumbles against his skin is sending shocks up his leg to his cock, spreading through his belly and all the way to his fingertips.

 

Harry kisses all the way up his leg until he’s reached Louis’ groin. His right hand had mirrored the motion, trailing up his other leg, meeting his lips at the base of his cock. He gives Louis a few loose tugs, spreading the precome around to wet his cock.

 

“Haz,” Harry pulls him up to sitting and pushes in with a silencing kiss, and Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s broad shoulders and digs in his fingernails the slightest bit. Harry breaks off the kiss with a guttural groan and ruts against Louis where their bare crotches are pressed together. “Like that? Like it a little rough?” Harry nods against him. “Okay, me too. oh god. Okay I’m-nothing too much right now but stoplights yeah? Green, yellow, red, just in case?”

 

“Yeah, god yes. Green all the way right now,” Harry confirms, and dives back in for another kiss. Louis feels Harry’s crotch retreat and is about to say something when he feels himself being lifted further up onto the bed.

 

Harry crawls over on top of him and shoves a pillow underneath his hips, and gone is the clumsy boy from earlier; in his place there is a lust-filled man with thick biceps and a thicker cock, and what looks to be toenails painted in a bright pink color.

 

The feeling of a wet fingertip at his hole breaks him from his reverie, and he locks eyes with Harry and nods to confirm it’s alright he continues. His finger slides in easily among the excess spit from earlier, and it’s only a few moments before Harry’s pressing in another long finger with the first.

 

He bears down on the finger, urging Harry to press in further, faster, with more pressure. Harry meets his thrusts and they continue to rut against each other, Harry peppering kisses against his thighs.

 

Finally Harry works him up to three fingers, and the way he’s avoiding Louis’ prostate has to be on purpose, because at this point even the least talented person could find it. “Haz, please, ‘m ready,” he groans out, breaking the streak of little moans and gasps he’s been emitting.

 

Harry takes out his fingers at that and Louis can feel his hole contracting around nothing, knows he’s probably gaping and open. Suddenly there’s the blunt tip of Harry’s cock pressing against him, and he looks down at the now condom-covered dick and swallows the nerves he’s feeling in his throat. Harry is big. He’s huge. Bigger than anyone Louis has ever been fucked by before. This is going to be a challenge, and it’s a good thing he’s feeling up for it.

 

Harry nudges his cock up against Louis once more, and it occurs to him that Harry is trying to let him take control.

 

“Chivalrous, Harry. Not just poking me with your dick and giving no mind to what happens to me!” He says, and now that he’s got the memo, he’s pushing back against his cock, helping him ease into him. Harry’s mouth twitches into a lopsided grin, one side ticked up higher than the other. He begins to push his hips forward to meet Louis’ movement and soon, Harry’s fully sheathed inside of him.

 

Louis’ hands seem to move on their own volition, scratching against Harry’s back, and it only seems to egg him on even more.

 

“Uh-Louis. You’re so. So. So tight, so good,” Harry says, hips thrusting ever so slightly in and out of him.

 

“Harry,” he lets out. “Haz, move right now, I swear to god,” he says, punctuating each word with additional tilts of his own hips to push Harry’s cock into himself even further.

 

Something snaps, and all of a sudden Harry’s pile driving into him, hips driving his cock in and out at a ruthless speed. It hurts but it’s such a good hurt, the feeling of being opened up by Harry.

 

Louis brings his fingers around to Harry’s chest and begins tugging on his nipples. He’s been sadfully neglectful them as of yet in their few times together, and it’s something that needs to be rectified immediately.

 

Harry lets out a sound that is eerily similar to a sob when he experimentally gives a nipple a harder tug. Harry looks up and meets his eyes, and it wasn’t a sob of sadness or anger. Definitely not. He nods, urging him to continue, and it’s all Louis needs to put his forefingers in his mouth and return them to Harry’s nipples to begin his work in haste.

 

Harry’s switching up the way he fucks like every few minutes, and it’s driving Louis out of his mind. One moment he’s aimlessly going at it, no care for hitting Louis’ prostate, the next he’s directing every thrust right into it with shockingly good accuracy. Now he’s just pushed his way in to the hilt, the head of his cock rubbing against his prostate, and just barely moving his hips to massage it and work up the tension in Louis’ groin higher than it’s ever been. He suddenly changes the movements to corkscrews, gentle circular motions that have Louis moaning out incessantly.

 

“Harry, oh god. You’re so _fucking_ good at this. Love the way you fuck me,” he says, and he thinks he sounds pretty well put together for someone whose mind is being blown.

 

“Lou, fuck,” Harry, on the other hand. Wow. He’s wrecked and it’s clear in his voice. “Louis. I need you to come, I’m not going to last.”

 

Louis pushes on his chest, forcing him forward and out of his arse for a moment, guiding Harry onto his back. Before he can question him, he crawls on top and sinks back down onto his cock, working himself up and down and keeping Harry’s hips secure on the bed with his hands.

 

“Louis, shit. This is so good. So, so fucking good. I wanna fuck you like this while you wear your panties sometime, yeah?” Louis can feel his mind going blank at that, and oh god. He _wants._

 

He prides himself in being a power bottom and he’s not about to let this be any different. He’s more than willing to let Harry take over, and preferably that can happen _soon_ , but right now he can see the way Harry’s eyes are glossing over and how close he is losing it, and that’s exactly what he wants to happen.

 

“Fuck, soon, Harry. I’ll put on another pair next time, maybe. What’s your favorite color?” He’s fully seated on Harry’s cock and moving himself around to brush against his own prostate, a mirror of Harry’s move earlier.

 

“Blue-fuck!” Harry gasps out. “Blue, like your eyes. Bluey greeny blue.”

 

“I have a turquoise pair, yeah? Think it’s a g-string. No back, you want my bare arse exposed for you to touch?” Harry’s eyes are closed but he can still see the way that imagery affects him. “Maybe for you to spank?” Harry bucks up, so out of control in response to that, and forces Louis to move. He comes back up off his cock and sets himself back down forcefully; he knows Harry can take it.

 

A hand comes up to rest on his bare arse right now, squeezing it gently but tugging it too, nails pressing against his cheek in a way that Louis knows means Harry wants more. He fucks himself on Harry’s cock for about a minute or so before he’s absolutely beyond desperate for a hand on himself. He knows Harry’s too out of it right now to muster up the coordination to get him off.

 

He grips his cock and it’s like when he did the ice bucket challenge last summer; a sudden chill rushes up and down his entire body followed immediately by heat yet again. He circles the base of it and brings his hand up to the tip to see if he’s leaked enough precome to make the glide easier. Harry has caught on to what he’s doing and is staring at Louis with his tongue out.

 

“What, you want to suck me right now? Harry, I know I’m bendy but I’m not _that_ bendy,” he says, the chuckle in his voice stilted by the arousal.

 

Harry shakes his head. “Hand. Let me get it wet,” he says, and returns to the same position, tongue out and staring greedily at Louis’ hand working over his cock.

 

Louis works himself up and down a few more times before he begrudgingly takes his hand off to offer it to Harry. Harry immediately laps at his fingertips and it’s bringing him back to earlier, to his face pressing against the pillow and his arse being eaten out like the future of the planet depended on his pleasure. Harry’s tongue dances around his fingers and palm and his thumb, and it’s quickly wet enough that he _needs_ to bring his hand back to his cock.

 

“H, oh. Oh my god your tongue. I need my hand back, I need it, I need to touch myself,” he’s suddenly begging and his power bottom persona is slipping, but he really doesn’t mind because Harry is eating it up, almost literally, but it’s more like he just keeps licking. Louis tugs his hand away and Harry leans up off the bed to follow him, but no one is that flexible, and Louis sighs in relief when he gets his hand back onto himself.

 

Harry’s feebly meeting his thrusts, fucking up into him as he moves down against his cock. He’s obviously tired, and it’s good that Louis is so close because he’s not sure either of them have enough energy to keep going.

 

With his hand pulling on his dick in time with his up and down motions on Harry’s, he can feel the exponentially growing intensity in his stomach and groin. He’s letting out these moans and gasps that in any other circumstance with any other partner he would feel embarrassed about, all breathy and high pitched. It feels so good to let them out and feel the way it affects Harry.

 

Louis can tell their relationship is going to be a lot of equal give and take. Like one day he’ll be on his knees and Harry will rough him up, but then the next it’s Louis’ turn to take over. He just _knows_.

 

His arm is getting really tired keeping him propped up on Harry, so he lowers himself down onto his forearm and tangles his fingers in Harry’s hair. With a gentle tug, Harry’s eyes shoot open and meet his own. “Lou, fuck,” he stutters out, hips canting upwards against him.

 

“Haz, oh my god.”

 

“Do that again, please, _please_ ,” he begs.

 

He’s still jacking himself off in between their stomachs, so he adjusts the balance and angles to make sure he can still slide up and down on Harry’s dick and pull on his hair. This time, he tugs more forcefully, and it brings him back to the blowjob in the foyer downstairs. Harry gasps in response, voice low and filled with want.

 

“Louis, Lou, Lou Lou. I’m going to come, I’m so close, are you close?” He rambles.

 

“Fuck, Harry, yes. Fuck me, fuck, fuck.” Harry’s using what seems to be the last little spurt of energy he has to drive his hips against Louis’ ass, pushing his cock deeper still.

 

With a brush against his prostate from Harry’s dick timed perfectly with him wringing his hand around the underside of the head of his own cock, he’s coming. He yelps out in surprise, and his come is covering Harry’s stomach and chest. A particularly long line of come paints his neck and underneath his chin, and it’s _so_ so hot to see him covered.

 

“Louis, I’m coming, oh god,” Harry’s thrusts become erratic and he’s shuddering on the bed. He finally slows and grabs the base of his cock and pulls out of Louis, who promptly turns and falls onto the bed next to him.

 

They lay in silence for what seems like ages, Harry’s hand carefully wrapped around the base of the condom, Louis staring at his closed eyes and blissful smile.

 

Harry shakes his head after a little while, forcing himself to come back to the here and now. He turns to meet Louis’ gaze and cracks a wide grin. “That was amazing,” he says.

 

“You’re telling me! Haz you are. You’re spectacular.” He leans over to kiss Harry with a closed mouth before rolling off the bed. “I’m gonna go get us stuff to wash up. Be right back, okay Haz?”

 

In the bathroom he stares in the mirror for slightly longer than normal- at the healing bruises from Christmas day in Harry’s bedroom, at his puffy lips and messy hair. He looks happier than he’s been in a while, and he has a sneaking suspicion it’s because of Harry.

 

He returns with a wet flannel and a roll of paper towel and finds a sleeping Harry.

 

“Haz,” he says, poking him gently in the side. He doesn’t respond, so he digs his fingers in a bit more, tickling him.

 

Harry shrieks and sits up in bed, before laying right back down when he realizes his chest is covered with come. He’s still got a hand wrapped around his softened cock and he gently pries the condom off and ties it up. Louis gestures to the trash can on the ground next to the pulled-out drawer from his bedside table.

 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that,” he says with a chuckle.

 

“It’s no matter, H,” he says. “Here’s paper towel. It’s so much better than kleenex, far more absorbent.”

 

“The more you know!” Harry says as he takes the paper towel and starts to clean himself off. “Your come went really far, there’s even some on my chin. Woah.”

 

“I’ve been known to do so when the sex is really good,” he responds.

 

“So the sex was good?” Harry asks.

 

“The sex was really, _really_ good,” he confirms.

 

Harry throws the paper towels into the trash as Louis reaches over with the flannel to clean him up. After a sufficient amount of wiping, he tosses it to the hamper in the corner of the room.

 

“And the Tommo throws a successful 3-pointer! That’s his third of the game, can he make it four?” Harry’s taken on the voice of a sports commentator, and Louis grins as he reaches up to tickle Harry’s sides again. “No! No! Stop, stop stop!” Harry shrieks at the tickling, and his entire body is wriggling around on the bed.

 

“Only if you say I’m the best!”

 

“Ah! Stop tickling-Lou!” He laughs. “You’re the best! Stop!”

 

Louis stills his fingers and leans down to kiss Harry.

 

“I’d have said it regardless, you know? You really are the best,” Harry whispers. “I’m so glad this all happened. That it’s happening. That the future is going to happen.” He yawns, and pulls Louis close to his side, intentions of sleep clear.

 

Louis grabs the blanket from where they’ve kicked it to the end of the bed and tugs it over them. “Thank you, my raisin bagel. You’re the best too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! We'd love to hear what you thought of it, so don't hesitate to leave a comment or come find us on tumblr: [Zoë](http://happilysunlight.tumblr.com) and [Lindsey](http://yslstagram.tumblr.com).


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